


Let the Poets Cry Themselves to Sleep

by audreyscout (orphan_account)



Series: Let the Poets Cry Themselves to Sleep [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-13
Updated: 2013-05-13
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:59:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/audreyscout
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title from a line in the song 'Poison Oak' by Bright Eyes</p><p>Jehan is filled with love for everything and everyone, but he doesn’t always have enough left over for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let the Poets Cry Themselves to Sleep

Courfeyrac finds him curled up on his bed on top of the blankets. Tears escape from behind his eyelids, shut tight. His whole being is shaking uncontrollably, and he gasps for air as sobs rip themselves from his throat. Courfeyrac kneels before him and reaches out to push hair out of his face.

“Oh, Jehan,” he whispers, and the man on the bed opens his eyes. Courfeyrac has never seen him look so vulnerable and broken. His eyes are bloodshot and there’s a heartbreaking helplessness in them. He takes a shaky breath.

“Courf…” it’s all he can manage before another wave of tears overtakes him. Courfeyrac sits up on the edge of the bed and pulls Jehan into his lap. He cradles Jehan, holding him tightly without speaking, his heart breaking as he listens to the man’s shuddering breaths and feels his tears as they fall onto his neck. Courfeyrac holds him until the tears stop; he feels slow, steady breaths on his neck and realizes that Jehan has fallen asleep. He gently lays him on his side, pulling the blanket up to his chin before settling down beside him. He wants to be there when Jehan wakes.

\---

Courfeyrac opens his eyes groggily and looks around the room. Jehan’s side of the bed is empty and he feels a twinge of worry in his chest, but the sound of movement in the kitchen sets his mind at ease. He stands and makes his way to the other room.

He finds Jehan sitting on the countertop sipping on a hot chamomile tea. His eyes are still red; he has tied his hair back and wears an oversized, pastel green sweater. He places the mug to the side and gently places his arms around Courfeyrac’s neck, touching their foreheads together. Courfeyrac reaches up and cups Jehan’s face in his hands, searching his eyes for any sign of the helplessness that had been there only an hour ago. 

“You are so loved,” Courfeyrac says, his voice cracking slightly. The corners of Jehan’s lips curve upwards and tears fill his eyes; this time, however, Courfeyrac can only see happiness and gratitude in his expression. Jehan pecks him on the lips before leaning into him, his lips at Courfeyrac’s ear. Courfeyrac puts his arms around him, holding him close.

“Thank you,” Jehan whispers as he rests his head on Courfeyrac’s shoulder. Courfeyrac closes his eyes, and reminds himself to tell Jehan how much he cares about him more often.


End file.
